


A Kotatsu and a Conversation

by OHSHCsociety



Series: Ouran Oneshots [1]
Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Friendship, Gen, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28947240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OHSHCsociety/pseuds/OHSHCsociety
Summary: Ever since he had the (mis)fortune of meeting Tamaki Suoh, Kyouya found himself having his staff set up a kotatsu in his room each winter.By this point, he should really be used to returning home to find Tamaki already there.
Series: Ouran Oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2123166
Kudos: 14





	A Kotatsu and a Conversation

“Is breaking into my home your new favorite pastime?”

Seated at the _kotatsu_ with his cheek pillowed on his folded arms, Tamaki Suoh grinned up at him lazily. “In my defense,” he said as he sat up, “if I waited until you were home, you would tell the staff to send me away, and I’d never get to see you outside of class and club.”

Kyouya shrugged. He tossed his jacket and tie onto a chair before settling in across from Tamaki, taking note of the way his friend straightened and began to fidget with his fingers.

He hadn’t come over for a lengthy lecture about traditional Japanese interior design, then. 

He sighed. “Well, out with it.”

“Huh?”

Kyouya raised an eyebrow. “What idiotic plan are you coming up with now?”

“I’m not that bad,” Tamaki complained, his lower lip trembling in the beginning of a pout. When he didn’t get a reply, he wailed, “ _Kyouya!_ ”

Sometimes, it was just too easy. 

“Am I really that bad . . . ?” Tamaki muttered, lost in thought. After a moment or two, he shook his head. “You are a terrible friend. But that’s why I’m here!”

“To give me a lecture on how to be polite to Frenchmen who have taken up breaking and entering as a hobby?” Kyouya drawled.

“ _Mon dieu_ , you are in a mood today,” Tamaki huffed. “For your information, I’m trying to be serious.”

“Is that what you are doing?”

“Never mind,” he declared. “No present for you. I’ll give it to one of the others instead.” He hesitated. “Just kidding. The twins might burn anything I give them.”

“Most likely. If you keep being dramatic, I may find that I share in the sentiment.”

Tamaki glared, his cheeks flushed with frustration.

Kyouya smiled, the sickly-sweet expression he usually reserved for the host club. “Tea?”

“Sure,” Tamaki mumbled. “Since you can’t be civil until you’ve been caffeinated.”

“What was that?”

“I would enjoy tea very much, my dear, wonderful, bestest friend in the whole wide world!”

Kyouya rolled his eyes, but he rang for tea anyway. 

Tamaki chattered about classes until the tea was delivered, and then they sat peacefully for a few minutes, Kyouya silent and Tamaki monologuing about different varieties of tea. After their cups were empty and the _kotatsu_ had been cleared, Tamaki set a large silver gift bag on the table. A dark green bow matched the semi-transparent sheets of tissue paper meticulously arranged and peeking over the top of the bag.

“Is there an occasion?” Kyouya asked dryly. 

“No, not really,” Tamaki sighed. “I’d meant to have this for you at the start of the term, but I got distracted, so . . . better late than never!”

“Since when was a new term cause for gifts?”

Tamaki shrugged. “If you think about it, we met at the start of term. So I guess that’s the occasion?”

“Your confidence astounds me.”

“Oh, hush,” he scolded. “Let me explain.”

Kyouya propped his chin on one hand and gestured for Tamaki to continue. 

“I know that your father told me to befriend me,” he began, cheerful despite his words. “We weren’t really friends for a while, but . . . it was still kind of lonely, you know? I thought I’d at least be able to live with my dad, but then I was moving into the second estate and he wasn’t there, and my Japanese was _not_ as good as I wanted it to be, I didn’t have my old friends, I couldn’t call _Maman_ . . .” He gave Kyouya a small smile.

His expression was . . . unsettling, to say the least. Kyouya had seen Tamaki’s flirty smiles, his ‘ _I have an idea that totally won’t backfire_ ’ smiles, his lazy daydream smiles, and even his insincere, angry smiles, but never had Tamaki’s smile not reached his eyes the way it did now.

“Anyway,” Tamaki said, “It’s been a whole two years since I moved here, and even though you probably could’ve ditched me by now like you did that kid who’s in 3-B this year,” Kyouya rolled his eyes, “you’re still here, and despite all of your bluster, you haven’t told security to kick me out yet. So I wanted to give you something.” He shoved the bag across the _kotatsu_.

Gingerly, Kyouya began to take the tissue paper from the bag. “Should I be flattered, or should I be terrified?”

“Flattered. I put a lot of effort into this!”

“I . . . can see that . . .” Kyouya murmured as he lifted a soft, plush, lavender blanket from the bag. 

“It’s merino wool,” Tamaki was saying, his words rapid and the slightest bit jumbled together, “so it shouldn’t fray and it shouldn’t irritate your skin, and the color was to match your rose color in the club, but if you don’t like it, I can―”

“Where did you get this?” Kyouya interrupted. He was looking at the stitches of the blanket, the pattern of knots that shaped the braid-like pattern. Quite frankly, it looked professionally done; from the moments he was spending now to examine it, he could tell that he would not find any visible flaws in the blanket.

“Oh, uh, I made it.”

“You _what_?”

“I made it,” Tamaki said again, the slightest bit more confident this time. He gave another of those small, uncertain smiles. “ _Maman_ taught me to knit when I was little. I always used to order yarn from a woman who has a sheep farm north of Bordeaux, and she was nice enough to have it shipped to me here, and I was a bit out of practice, but once I got into the swing of it, it wasn’t too hard.”

“I am genuinely at a loss for words.”

“You could start with ‘thank you, Tamak’― _hey!_ ”

Simultaneously pouting and shuddering with silent laughter, Tamaki yanked the blanket off of his head and tossed it back at Kyouya. He paused as Kyouya folded the blanket and set it aside before he tilted his head to the side, his eyes wide and innocent as he asked, “Before I go, though, what do you think of the new kid? Fujioka?”

“How did I know you had a plot in mind?”

“ _Kyouya!_ That’s it, give me the blanket back, you don’t deserve it.”

“Hm . . . no, I don’t believe I will.”

“How is my best friend the worst person in the world?”

Kyouya laughed.


End file.
